


Car Wash

by Jael_Lyn



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-17
Updated: 2012-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-03 19:57:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jael_Lyn/pseuds/Jael_Lyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days you shouldn't get up.  Jim has a little mis-adventure with the Mayor's car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Car Wash

Blair trailed his partner off the elevator, not quite matching the pace the taller man set.  Trying vainly to keep up, Blair inwardly cringed at the lines of Jim's back.  Jim's bearing always radiated a subtle note of tension, a natural byproduct of his military service.  Today the air around him virtually shimmered with suppressed anger. 

Every eye in the bullpen swiveled their direction as they entered.  Face after face went blank, trying for neutral with a touch of interest.  _Please, please, pretty please._   If they could just get in, over to Jim's desk, and out again, without someone losing it.  Surely, no one would be foolish enough to stir up the hornet's nest that was Detective Ellison, not at this particular moment.

Jim ignored everyone, strode directly to his desk.  With his back turned, he impatiently sorted through the paperwork that waited on the meticulously organized surface.  Blair halted a few steps behind him, half expecting the required form to spontaneously combust when Jim touched it.

The silence that stole over the room swallowed every sound.  Just a few more moments, mere seconds, and they could retreat.  Blair pictured it in his mind, hoping to make it so.  Jim would pick up the accident report paperwork, sign it, turn, and walk out the door.   Blair would whisk him out of the station and have time to defuse the human time bomb in private.  

It could happen.  

The gods couldn't hate them that much.  

Jim's hands stopped their restless searching.  They were going to make it. 

It was not meant to be.  

Brown, of course.  A single, stifled snort.  Silence again, followed by a high-pitched giggle that H vainly tried to swallow.  Blair closed his eyes.  It was over, the dam was breached.  There was nothing to do but wait for the flood.  Rafe snickered, which set Henri off again.  Then Collins, McNamara, and a few other unfamiliar voices, guys who must have drifted in to watch the show joined in.  Joel's deep belly laugh sealed their fate.  The bullpen erupted into gales of full-fledged laughter and some scattered applause.

Jim crumpled the paperwork in his clenched fist.  "Shut up, H," he growled.

Henri did the only thing possible.  He buried his forehead into his partner's shoulder and laughed even harder.

"Brown, I mean it," Jim ground out, now facing his tormenters.  "Shut up."  All Blair could think was that his lips didn't even move.  Ventriloquism.  Who knew?  

Jim glared at him, the look that meant, "Sandburg, fix it right now."  Blair shrugged, and felt the corners of his mouth twitch.  He was going to lose it, and then Jim would kill him.  It would be over quickly.  There would be no pain.  Jim was too angry for pain.

"It.  Was.  Not.  My.  Fault."

The symphony reached crescendo a second time.  Joel Taggert clung to the doorframe, his entire body shaking.  He wiped tears from his eyes.  "Of course it wasn't, Jim," he cackled helplessly.  "Those  -  car washes -  are deadly," he sputtered, collapsing into hysterics again.  Jim, the man who never blushed, turned an interesting shade of crimson.

Blair looked at his shoes.  He tried to think of embarrassing moments.  He imagined his last trip to the dentist.  His shoulders shook with the effort, but once the first giggle slipped past his lips, he was lost.  Jim's eyes left no doubt.  In his opinion, the betrayal was total.

"ELLISON!"

Simon.  Of course.  When the gods bring disaster, they don't mess around.  From the sound of it, he was near the elevator, and incoming.

"ELLISON!"

"He's right here, Simon," Joel volunteered between strangled gasps.  

Under normal circumstances, a single glimpse of an irate Simon Banks was enough to scatter the brave into retreat.  Waves of laughter continued to roll, captain or no captain.  Simon parted the assembled group like Moses before the Red Seanand went nose to nose with his detective.  "How could you?  Even you can't be this bad." 

"It wasn't me!"

"The _Mayor's_ car."  Simon closed his eyes.  "His _NEW_ car."  He spun around on his heel, abruptly changing victims.  "Sandburg?!"

Blair could only nod.  He was laughing too hard.

"Talk!" Simon barked.

Blair managed a minimal level of control.  "Jim was just trying to be conscientious, sir.  One of those big semis splashed mud all over the side.  He couldn't return the car in that condition.  The car wash was just a matter of simple courtesy."  Simon glared, clearly not mollified.  "You would have approved, Captain."  _Okay, too much.  Shouldn't have said that._

Simon in full roar was not to be ignored.  "You are inches from death.  Don't lie to me, Sandburg.  How the hell…?

Blair held up his hands, trying to fend off Simon's rage.  This would be easier if he could keep a straight face.  "So the kid stepped on the gas instead of the brake?  Just a teensy little mistake."  Simon's eyes bugged out slightly.  "Seriously, sir, that car went through the water, the brushes, shot out the far side, hit the curb and we're talking serious air.  Really, sir, even if Jim had actually caught on to the bumper, it wouldn't have mattered."  He had to stop, interrupted by the hysterical laughter.  Jim, standing at his side, was shaking with outrage.  Summoning every ounce of control, Blair added, "I'm sure that we can cite them for putting a car wash on the edge of the ravine."

"Damn it, Sandburg, this is SERIOUS!"

Laughter rang out again.  Blair stifled another giggle, wishing for paralysis of the face.  "Sir, I'm sure we'll all see the bright side in an hour or two.  It was rather unique."

"Get out.  Both of you."

"Uh…"  Blair pried the crushed report form out of Jim's hands, trying to flatten it as he spoke.  "But, don't we need to do the incident report?"

Simon snatched the hapless paper.  "Give me that," he snarled.  "Go, before I lose my mind.  I'm not responsible."

"Yes, sir," Blair said, pushing a glowering Jim in front of him.  He aimed Jim out the door, and turned back hesitantly.  He fumbled in his pocket and handed a neatly folded citation.  He held it toward Simon with a tentative, helpful smile.  "We gave the kid a ticket for reckless driving.  Under the circumstances – "

"GET OUT!"

Clear enough.  Blair managed to get Jim to the elevator.  His partner quivered with anger.  Gales of laughter from the bullpen rained down on them.  When the elevator opened, three guys from Vice and another from Burglary blocked the door.  They surrounded Jim, apparently unaware of their own danger.

> "Ellison!  Hey, man, what an achievement."    
> 

> "The Mayor's car.  We always knew you were an overachiever.  You gonna do the Governor's limo next week?"

> "What do you suppose an LX10 runs these days?"

The chorus continued.  Blair calculated the odds that he could get Jim into the elevator and away from his hecklers.  It didn't look good.

>   
> "Man, that ravine was really deep.  And your run across the parking lot was a thing of beauty."     
> 

> "Channel 6 has great coverage, man."

Everything about Jim's posture changed.  In a voice barely above a whisper, he managed, "What did you say?"

"Didn't you know?  Local news is all over it.  Some guy was taking video of his kid in the parking lot and caught the whole thing."

&&&&&

"Jim, please.  You haven't eaten all day."  They were ensconced in the loft, seated at the table.  The phone had long since been disconnected.  "At least try the soup."

Jim's shoulders were slumped, and he pinched the bridge of his nose in a failed attempt to tame his raging headache.  Despite Blair's efforts, the loft hadn't been much of a sanctuary.  

Jim halfheartedly took a sip of the soup.  Chicken noodle – nonthreatening, comforting.  Normally a good choice.

"Are they still out there?" he asked.

Blair leaned back in his chair to get a view from the window.  Vans from the three local affiliates were indeed parked outside 852 Prospect.  "Yeah.  Jim, you know the Mayor can't really take away your driver's license.  He can't fire you, either.  And Simon will get over it eventually."

Jim looked mournfully at Blair's laptop.  It had been tough, explaining it to Jim, whose computer frame of reference was limited to email and the word processor.  Something about YouTube just didn't make sense to him.  "And I can't do anything about that?"

"Sorry man.  You're viral."  Blair clicked a couple of keys to check.  

"Am I past the biting kid?  If my life is ruined, I want to beat the kid."

"Yeah, Jim.  You're definitely past Charlie the biting kid.  Moving up on Lady Gaga, and uh - some other people you don't want to know about."

"Oh , God."  Jim manfully swallowed another mouthful of soup.  "Okay.  I'll put off killing myself until tomorrow."

"Good plan.  Finish your soup, Jim.  Just finish your soup."

The end


End file.
